


walking home

by harscrow



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other tags to be added, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 07:00:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20170087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harscrow/pseuds/harscrow
Summary: “I knew it. You likeSteve?” Excited, Max only whispers the other boy’s name, her twinkling eyes granting Billy no cover.Billy spent a whole year dreading the moment someone would catch on with him and his ambiguous attitude toward Harrington. He thought it would be terrifying, the end of life as he knew it. But then again, life as he knew it is already dead and gone, so there’s not much else to be scared of.





	walking home

The day Billy is released from the government’s secret facility that served as an hospital but looked nothing like it from the outside, his father doesn’t bother to show up. It’s Susan and Max that pick him up, waiting at the front desk as they were probably instructed by the personnel. When Billy meets their eyes, they offer faint smiles and an awkward silence, broken by Dr Owens’ kind words. He insisted to personally escort him, probably aware of how disoriented his patient would have felt in such a delicate moment.

“Mrs Hargrove, Max. I trust you will take care of this tough guy.”

At that, the girl’s smile turns brighter, nose scrunching up a little. “Oh, we will. I missed my brother.”

Billy wonders if she really did or if she’s only saying that in an attempt to make him feel wanted among them. Max lied to him before, but it’s been a long time since he last questioned her sincerity.

After Susan grabs the small backpack containing Billy’s sparse personal effects, Dr Owens carefully lays a hand on his shoulder. “Billy, anything you need, you have my number. Don’t hesitate to call me, and remember our appointment on December 1st. By then I will have listened to all those records you suggested, and I hope you will have listened to the ones I gave you.”

A decent man, Billy had soon come to realize, that made him feel less of an infected lab rat and more of a recovering human being during his extended stay. They talked a lot about music, since the moment Dr Owens was keen to reveal he used to play drums in his youth and encouraged him to take up an instrument too.

“Thanks.” Billy nods, some kind of anxiety kicking in. Maybe he’s not ready to confront other people yet. The mere thought of having to deal with the outside world makes him want to cling onto the doctor’s white gown like a little kid. “Thanks…” he repeats, unable to articulate a more complex sentence. He used to be infatuated with the endless possibilities of open spaces, and now he doesn’t even know if he belongs in any space at all.

“We are so grateful for everything you’ve done, Dr Owens.” Susan shakes the man’s hand, her voice more cheerful than usual. She can play mom well, from time to time.

Before they reach the building’s exit, Billy asks Max the only thing he needs to know with a certain urgency. The question is hushed, but not out of fear. “Is he waiting in the car?”

“No, he’s at work.” she says, glancing at him, clearly looking for something on his spent face.

The fact that Neil thought his son wasn’t even worth the drive doesn’t come as a surprise to Billy. On the contrary, it offers a hint of relief. Nodding, he dismisses the matter.

“What do you say we grab some breakfast on our way back? Pancakes and coffee? Maybe donuts?” Susan deserves A for effort but it’s a little too late for that, Billy thinks.

“I’m not hungry.” He lies, slamming the car door shut. Truth is, he wants neither to go home nor be in public. Making himself small in his grey hoodie, Billy rests his head against the window and lets out a sigh.

* * *

When they first moved to Hawkins to pretend they were a cute, happy family nested up Old Cherry Road, Billy hated having to live in the outskirts of the outskirts. He couldn’t believe more trees than people populated the neighbourhood. At the moment though, back from more than just a scrape with death, he’s actually glad there isn’t much human activity going on around his house.

“I kept your room clean while you were away.” Max announces, hands in her pockets, standing on the threshold next to him. “Mainly just dusted. Don’t worry, I didn’t move your stuff. There’s also, uh- A welcome home gift on your bed. El and I picked it together before she left.”

Billy walks into the room, looking at the walls as if it were someone else’s. He collects the small blue box laying on the bedspread and cracks a smile. The baby blue cardboard - with “from El & Max” scribbled in pen - is sturdy in his palm. For some reason, he feels like he has two sisters now and they would be disappointed if he didn’t think so.

The morning light filtering through the half-closed shutters lands on the little box’s content once Billy opens it. Before his eyes, the bright colors of an enamel pin sparkle softly, its glossy varnish a cheap version of amber, dark ruby and gold. It’s a lion head, looking royal and relaxed, knowing no fear.

“Max… Thank you. It’s beautiful. Goes straight on my fave jean jacket.”

At that, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and tiptoes closer. “Do you get why a lion?”

“Not really…” Billy admits, the pad of his thumb caressing the pin. “I mean, lions always look cool. Is it because I was born in August?” he guesses.

Max shakes her head, a little chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s you, dumbass.” she explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Brave as a lion, you know?” she adds then, more serious. “We thought you might need a reminder of who you really are.”

Eyes watering, Billy looks up at her and spreads his arms just enough for Max to fit into a hug. Their first. Billy is hit once again by the realization of how stupid he’s been for wasting so much time thinking he was alone, thinking he _had to be_ alone. Max wraps herself around him, snuggled against her big brother’s chest, and Billy understands his happiness is now linked to hers. No matter how many girls he used to sleep with to get Neil off his back, Billy has been touch-starved for years because nowhere he was able nor allowed to find the unsoiled, meaningful tenderness he needed. That shit was for pussies, right? It’s like his father’s voice resonated with him every time his skin desperately ached for nothing more than a hug. But not anymore. Tentatively, he finally rests his palms against another person’s back. His badass little sister, of all people. Nothing bad happens. No imposing shadow takes over, no unspeakable hurt is promised. Billy lets the truth of this moment pour some light on the neglected corners of his soul, and knows he’s loved.

“Hey,” he says when they part, almost exhausted by the warmth blossoming in his heart, “do you have El’s new address? I wanna thank her too.”

Nodding, Max steps back to give him some breathing space. “Sure. She’ll be happy to hear from you. Lemme just-”

As she runs to fetch the precious little notebook in her bedroom, her ponytail sways like a dreamcatcher in the wind. A memory Billy is bent on cherishing, to convince himself there’s life still, and the world has not ended by his tainted hands. Though weeks have gone by, every day since he woke up bed-ridden, morphine-bound and patched up, he’s barely kicked the smothering sense of guilt stuck in his gut. Even now, as he stands on his feet and all the posters in his room are exactly where he left them, Billy wants to bend over and cry, and throw up all those chemicals and darkness and death his strong young body already forgot but his mind never did. They monitored him, held him captive for longer than it took his wounds to heal, only to make sure his psyche reconciled being brought back from an interdimensional possession as well. That, it sort of did; but it didn’t necessarily result in a peaceful journey, or a clear conscience.

“Billy, are you okay?” It’s Max’s voice that snaps him out of his somber thoughts. He knows she’s concerned, but he hates being looked at that way. As if he’s gonna crumble. He’s not, _he’s not_.

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts it short, not wanting to engage in difficult explanations, “but I need to ask you a favour.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you think you can get Harrington to come over?”

“Steve? Uh… yeah, I guess?” She says, grabbing Billy’s stack of post-its and writing down the Byers’ new address. “What should I tell him?”

Billy sits down and starts fidgeting with the cardboard box, index tracing its square outline. Regular. Soothing. “He probably still hates me, so- Just tell him I’d like to apologize, but I don’t blame him if he wants nothing to do with me.”

“Actually… he _did_ ask about you a couple times. Seemed to genuinely care.”

“Oh.” Hit and sunk. Billy’s face turns crimson before he can even process what Max said. Embarrassingly enough, the little box escapes his jittery hold and hits the floor. “Oh, fuck!” And there goes his hope to hide his crush from his little sister any longer.

“Oh my god?” She drops so fast he manages to just blink before she puts the box back in his hands and plops down on the bed next to him. “I knew it. You like _Steve_?” Excited, she only whispers the other boy’s name, her twinkling eyes granting Billy no cover.

Billy spent a whole year dreading the moment someone would catch on with him and his ambiguous attitude toward Harrington. He thought it would be terrifying, the end of life as he knew it. But then again, life as he knew it is already dead and gone, so there’s not much else to be scared of. “Can’t put anything past you, uh? You little shit.” He mimics an elbow to her ribcage, but she holds onto his arm and laughs.

“You’ve been soooo obvious.” She teases, smile so wide her cheeks must hurt. “Just to me, don’t worry.” she adds, after a more attentive look at Billy’s face. “I’m a smart-ass. Above average and whatnot. Your secret is safe. And I will drag Steve here myself.”

Billy chuckles, picturing the whole thing in his head. MadMax would and could, no doubt about it. He can’t believe he admitted out loud that he likes Steve. Most importantly, he can’t believe how good it feels. His lungs dilate, taking in air, letting out shame. Why does it have to be so difficult, when it can also be that easy?

* * *

Perks of being possessed by a literal nightmare made flesh? Other, lesser types of monsters learn to leave you the fuck alone.

Neil has been mostly avoiding Billy, and only addressed a few cold words to him in the first couple of days. Whether that comes from a place of disgust or fear, Billy doesn’t care much. He wishes he could enjoy the feeling, though, instead of retreating to a mental prison of his own all the same. Four invisible walls he crawls to, conveniently coinciding with the perimeter of his room. Max comes to visit, brings him food when he can’t get himself to sit a the dining room table, and gives him updates on what she calls her secret mission.

“Dustin told me Steve just started working at Family Video. I’ll have mom drive me there tomorrow after school so I can talk to him, okay?”

Billy takes the plate, uninterested in its content but grateful nonetheless. He nods, tries to smile. “Means a lot, Max. What you’re doing for me.”

“It’s alright.” She shrugs, offering her knuckles for Billy to fist-bump. “Hey, maybe you should fix the Camaro. Otherwise, how are you gonna show up to your dates with Steve?”

  
“Don’t get your hopes up, kiddo. He’s not interested. Will never be.”

“Listen to me, fix your car.” She commands, acting as if she knows something Billy doesn’t. And with that, young sybil in fuchsia pants, she leaves.

Something about her demeanor is so convincing that Billy manages not only to empty the plate, but also to roll up his sleeves and go take a peek at his old blue friend. Nothing could have prepared him for such an appalling sight, though. The car’s been sitting in the garage for months, spent and battered, shattered windows and scratched paintwork. Not a soul caring for her except for whoever drove the tow truck all the way from the goddamn mall. And it shows.

Billy really doesn’t need another gush of guilt, but at least this one he knows how to smother. His fingertips linger over the big-ass series of dents the impact with Steve’s car caused. Those will be bitches to fix. Damn, pretty boy hit hard. For some reason, the thought vaguely amuses him. He goes around the Camaro and pops the hood to evaluate just how desperate the situation is. All the types of wrong going on in there make Billy wince; on the bright side, it could have been a lot worse. The fuse box is destroyed and most of the connecting tubes have burnt, but the battery appears intact. Both the air filter and the engine look tarnished but not deeply corroded, and the fried reservoir tank should be easily replaced.

Even if it all seems superficial, Billy is aware there might be hidden damages he can’t spot right now. A more thorough inspection would assess the real state of things, and clarify just how much work he’s gonna have to put in. In a way, that raging machine turned silent reminds him a lot of himself. Except no one is gonna pry his mind open and fix the unresolved issues he’s left to live with.

* * *

Billy cares to roll down his sleeves and button his grey shirt up until his collarbone. He doesn’t spend much time looking at the mirror; running his fingers through clean, soft hair to puff up his curls a little bit will do. Steve should be there any minute. Smart as ever, Max picked the day Neil is off hunting with his friends to ask Steve to their house. At least neither him or his rifle will be around, she figured.

“I’ll just say hi to Steve, then be in my bed listening to music. I promise not to eavesdrop!” she says, grabbing on to the doorframe to peer into Billy’s room. “Wait,” she sizes him up “what is that? Ew.”

Billy smoothes down his shirt and furrows his brow. “It’s called clothing, _Maxine_. Shocking, I know.”

Arms crossed and pursed lips, she steps in and pretends to be amused. “Ha-ha. And here I thought you were going to greet him naked, _William_.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Billy shushes his sister, diving into his drawer to fish out some rings. He wasn’t actually planning on wearing any jewelry, but he needs something to distract himself with, before she notices he’s blushing up to his ears again. It’s ridiculous, really. When has he ever been the type to get this flustered? “Why didn’t you go with Susan anyway?”

“Because her Sunday afternoon routine is a bore. I much prefer tormenting you.” she replies candidly. “This one.” she decides, pointing at one of the steel rings in his palm. “And at least open your shirt a little bit, Romeo.”

Max goes for his collar, but Billy shoves her hand away. “No.” It’s a growl he immediately regrets, along with the slap. “Fuck, sorry. Sorry, I didn’t-”

She’s looking at him with hurt in her eyes, and that makes him panic, but Billy doesn’t know she’s only mirroring what she sees in him. “I’m sorry, Max.” he apologizes, again, voice almost breaking. “My scars. I don’t want to.”

“Of course. It’s- It’s fine.” she swallows, mortified. “Good luck with Steve. Smile, he’ll think you’re cute.” and with that being said, she retreats to her room so quick Billy’s heart gets crushed by guilt.

A tremor rattles his wrists, and he forces himself to exhale slowly, praying all his demons to let him live, let him go. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore, but what if it’s all written in his DNA? What if there’s no escape, and all he’s ever going to be is fucked up? Steve’s car comes along the driveway, only furthering his anxiety. It all feels like a bad fucking idea, suddenly. ‘I want to die. I want to get out of here. I want to die.’ he pleads, when Harrington rings the bell. ‘_I deserved to die_.’ he punishes himself, letting that thought linger while the bell rings again, and again.

He expects to hear Max’s footsteps rush to the door, but nothing happens.

“Hey, Billy!” Steve’s voice calls him from outside. “Man, you there?”

His own name on King Steve’s lips, and he cowers? Now, that would be another good reason for Billy to hate himself, and the list is already so long it doesn’t require any new additions. What’s left of his spirit of conservation leads Billy out of his room and right in front of Steve Harrington. He follows Max’s advice, and does his best to crack a smile while opening the door. He’s sure his heart has never raced so hard before. Steve is so handsome it makes the sensitive skin of his scars fizzle in agony under the sad grey fabric he’s hiding into.

“Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting.” he says. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid. You sound stupid.’

But Steve doesn’t seem to think the same, and smiles back. “It’s okay, uhm… It’s nice to see you.”

“Is it?” Billy asks, swept off his feet. 0.5 seconds in Steve’s company and he’s ready to let him rip his heart out. Just like at that Halloween party, but with less animosity.

“Yeah. Wish I could have visited earlier, actually. I wanted to apologize, too, but I didn’t know where to start from.”

Billy can’t believe his own ears. “Y-you kiddin’ me? You got nothing to apologize for.”

“I hit you with my car. And I didn’t even know you were-” Steve sighs, gesturing a lot. Billy finds that adorable, and his brain is already turned to mush. “That was just a shitty thing to do, I’m sorry.”

So they’re really having a whole conversation on the threshold like two dumbasses. And Steve really apologized for the way he prevented him from killing a bunch of his friends. Much to his surprise, Billy realizes that his life has the potential of getting weirder still.

“I had it coming, after what I did last year. All this time, and I never said those words to you. Never said those words to Max either until I thought it was too late for anything else. Thought I’d die at the mall, you know? Shit, I need to apologize to Lucas as well. I hurt-” Billy stops and lifts his gaze to meet Steve’s expecting one. “I hurt so many people, Harrington. Fucking broke your face and I didn’t even want to. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, about everything.”

“You didn’t want to?”

Billy doesn’t get how that’s the first thing Steve seems to register, but decides to indulge him all the same. “I was not mad at you, not really. Your pretty face just got in the way at the wrong time.” He wishes he could say more, wishes he could trust someone else with that secret. Apart from Max. “It’s not an excuse, I’m… trying to explain.”

Steve is evidently hoping for more to come, but it doesn’t. Awkward silence ensues.

“So, uh-” Billy clears his throat. “Wanna come inside?”

“Why? We’re having a really good talk out here in the open.” Steve ponders, admiring his surroundings. “I mean it.” he adds, sitting down on the step.

Chuckling, Billy settles next to him. “I take it you accept my apologies?” he asks, holding his breath when Steve’s knee brushes against his own. He smells clean, even better than he remembered. It must be his hair. God. Billy would give his right hand to bury his face into it. The sole thought makes his eyes water.

“What can I say, I’m bad at holding grudges.” Steve shrugs, looking at the street. “And you seem sincere. If Max trusts you, then I trust you.”

Billy can’t help but reward himself with a glimpse of his perfect profile. Steve’s face is to be kissed all over, he believes. And he missed it so much during the last few months, he would think of it and try to recall every detail: his moles, the angle of his jaw, the exact shade of his eyes and the outline of his beautiful mouth. What that granted Billy was a pure kind of comfort, something to hold on to after waking up from a nightmare and not being able to fall asleep again.

“How’s the Camaro?”

Billy chooses honesty. “A lot like me.” he admits. “Needs some serious fixing.”

“I can help you with that, if you want?” Steve blurts out, turning to him. “Fix the Camaro?”

‘Fix me too. Please, fix me too. Please, King Steve.’ It’s all on the tip of Billy’s tongue and right behind ocean blue eyes fixed on the other. “Don’t need your pity, if that’s what this is about. I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Oh, shut up, man. Next Thursday at 3?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm quite terrified of starting this journey, but my tarot cards encouraged me to do so. Besides, I missed writing these two, so here is my attempt at fixing the mess that is canon.  
I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Rest assured, I'll give Billy the happy ending he deserves if it's the last thing I do :)
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @billyhargrrrove


End file.
